


Con Husbands

by JiniZ



Category: Anime Voice Actor RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Conventions, Daddy!Kink, Fucking, Gay Sex, Light Shibari, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Teasing, Threesome, anime cons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ/pseuds/JiniZ
Summary: There are cons he loves, and cons he hates. This one has a little of both going for it, but right now, Ian fuckinghatesit.He’s part of a panel with Tatum, and if Tatum isn’t careful, he’s going to end up dead because Ian is going to kill him.“You okay?” Tatum asks him. Into the mic no less. “You seem distracted.”Of course Ian is distracted. Under the table they’re sitting at, Tatum is gently caressing his thigh, coming dangerously close to his crotch.





	Con Husbands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Powerfulweak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/gifts).



There are cons he loves, and cons he hates. This one has a little of both going for it, but right now, Ian fucking _hates_ it.

He’s part of a panel with Tatum, and if Tatum isn’t careful, he’s going to end up dead because Ian is going to kill him.

The question posed by the girl dressed in an _Ouran High School Host Club_ jacket has something to do with shipping - the younger girls’ questions always center around that. He thinks he heard whether or not Sousuke should end up with Rin or Makoto, but he really has no idea. His concentration is shot.

“You okay?” Tatum asks him. Into the mic no less. “You seem distracted.”

Of course Ian is distracted. Under the table they’re sitting at, Tatum is gently caressing his thigh, coming dangerously close to his crotch.

Tatum’s fingers dance over his muscles and his nails scratch the denim of his jeans occasionally. It’s enough to drive Ian mad.

He asks the girl to repeat her question and answers the question as best he can as he thanks God the tablecloth is floor length. If it weren’t the first two rows would get quite an eyeful because he’s quickly getting hard.

Fucking Tatum, he thinks then realizes that that’s the fucking point: _fucking Tatum_. It’s something they do every con. It’s practically a tradition at this point.  
What is going to make tonight even better is that Tatum’s partner, Brandon, is at the con, too. Brandon doesn’t always participate, but he likes to watch and give directions. It’s a good thing both Ian and Tatum take direction well.

Thankfully, Tatum fields the next question, and it’s for him so Ian can take a moment to collect his thoughts and to swat the hand away from his thigh as covertly as possible.

He manages to catch Tatum’s pinky and twist it just a hair. Tatum’s breath catches and he pulls his hand away. He covers it up to the panel participants by saying “Sorry. Muscle spasm,” as he launches into a story about how a spasm at the wrong moment in the recording booth makes for some interesting editing.

They’ve always been this way, this push and pull of seeing who can get the other in more trouble. Their antics had them mistaken for siblings on more than one occasion, but as soon as they are back inside one of their hotel rooms, the gloves come off, and the shortest game of gay chicken usually transpires.

The panel continues for another twenty minutes or so when one of the handlers catches Ian’s eye and makes a motion for them to wrap it up. Another panel follows theirs.

They finish up the lightning round of questions, remind the audience what time they sign autographs, and give each other the customary quick hug before they go their separate ways.

“I’m going to get you for that,” Ian purrs into Tatum’s ear. He means it, too.

“Doubt it,” Tatum laughs, and Ian’s intuition tells him that he’s probably right.

The next several hours go by slowly, so slowly that Ian thinks the world conspires against him because all he wants to do is go upstairs and get fucked. He’s needed it ever since their panel, and he’s getting antsy.

He spots Brandon finishing up his own autograph session and he winks at Ian. Fucking winks at him. One of these days, Ian is going to bend him over a chair and fuck him within an inch of his life. Not tonight, though. Well, maybe tonight even though tonight is Ian’s night. Ian is going to submit to Tatum, and submit beautifully. His body practically thrums with anticipation.

Ian checks his watch once more and sees that his hour is almost up. Once he’s done signing, he’s done for the night. Tatum, however, has one more panel, the 18+ one that Ian will avoid like the plague because as much of a tease as he was during the day panel, Tatum will be infinitely worse during the adult one, and Ian doesn’t think he can handle that right now. He’ll just have to be patient.

He finishes up the autographs, waves to a few people who call out his name, and exits the exhibit hall to head back to his room. He’s certainly not sitting in the bar where any number of people can interrupt his thoughts. His plan is to go back up to the room and order something light from room service and grab a shower.

Once upstairs, he flops down on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a few minutes. He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. His dick twitches at the thought of what the evening will bring and he smiles. God, he needs it tonight. More than he has in a while.

He shakes his head and sits up, reaching for the room service menu. He flips through it taking note that they actually serve breakfast all day which is unusual. Maybe just some scrambled eggs and a yogurt instead of a salad. He decides on that and calls down to place his order. They tell him it will be about thirty minutes, so he heads to the bathroom for a shower.

He turns on the water, gets a feel for the unfamiliar hardware, and finds the right temperature for him, which is just the other side of hot.

He lets the water run for a bit while he strips. He stops to look at himself in the mirror and briefly wonders what Tatum and Brandon see in him. He’s kind of skinny with hardly any muscle definition, with skin as pale as Sebastian Michaelis.

He scratches his chest hair absently and lets his hand wander down to his pubic hair. He gives that a scratch for good measure, too.

He shrugs and turns away from the mirror. It doesn’t matter what they see in him, just so long as they do, because Ian needs what they offer him. He doesn’t need it often, but he does need it. He’s aware enough of his own tastes to admit it.

He hops into the far end of the shower, his hand outstretched to ensure that the water is hot enough for him. Once he’s sure, he inches his way under the stream, face first, letting the spray overtake him.

As the water cascades over his body, he straightens up, letting it reach every part of him. He slowly circles in place, enjoying the water washing over him.

The heat helps to loosen him up a bit. Some of the tension, the part not connected to the men waiting for him, spirals down the drain along with the water.

He grabs the tiny bar of soap from the morning’s shower and makes quick work of washing away any lingering scents from the day. He pauses at his cock and gives it a couple of quick tugs with his soapy hand. His other hand finds its way to his nipple and squeezes. He gasps and knows he needs to stop teasing himself if he’s going to be good for them tonight.

He makes quick work of washing his hair, rinses off, and turns off the water. He grabs the towel off the end of the tub and starts to dry off.

Thankfully, he hadn’t turned on the fan, otherwise he would have missed the knock on his door. He curses under his breath that he either took longer than he thought, or the food took less time than room service told him it would. So, he wraps the towel around his waist, steps out of the tub and into the main room.

He looks through the peephole to confirm that room service is indeed on the other side of the door. He opens it to the server, taking care to stay behind the door in the event anyone should be walking by. Ian asks him to place the tray on the unused bed as he slips back into the bathroom to fish his wallet out of his pants to give the man a tip.

Ian hands the man a five, thanks him, and waits for him to leave. As the door closes, he turns to the dresser and fishes out a pair of X-Men boxer briefs. He slips them on under the towel, then lets it fall to the floor. He scoops it up and dries off his hair before tossing it back into the bathroom.

He sits on the bed next to the tray and lifts the cover off his food. Taking a long whiff, he thinks he smells chervil as there is a hint of licorice wafting from the plate. _Interesting_ , he thinks. He didn’t expect that. He digs in and discovers that it is indeed chervil.

The eggs and yogurt dispensed with, Ian quickly and cautiously places the tray outside his door. He takes care to ensure no one is in the hall and that the door doesn’t close behind him. The last thing he wants is for anyone to catch him in his underwear.

He dashes back inside, closes the door, and leans against it, thanking his lucky stars no one saw him.

He takes a look at his watch and sees he’s got at least two hours before Tatum’s panel finishes up. He can’t decide if he wants to take a nap or if he should jerk off to ensure he won’t pop off shortly before Brandon’s first command.

_Why not do both_ , he thinks, reversing his earlier decision in the shower. A quick toss followed by a power nap should rejuvenate him for the evening. Yep. That’s his plan. Fast or slow is his only decision left now.

Ian heads to the bathroom and kicks the clothes on the floor to the side with his foot. He trails his hand down his body as slowly as he can bear, stopping just before the waistband of his underwear.

He locks eyes with himself knowing there’s a good possibility that Brandon will make him watch himself getting fucked by Tatum. He may as well get used to it.

Just that brief thought of Tatum fucking him is enough to make his cock twitch. He snakes his hand down under the waistband of the cotton cloth and his fingers graze the top of his pubic hair.

His cock swells with anticipation. He slides his hand down his hair, taking care to avoid his cock and cups his balls instead. He rolls them in his hand, savoring the feel and the weight of them.

Ian continues staring at his reflection, his lids drooping a bit with desire. He lets out a tiny groan as he releases his balls and wraps his hand around his cock instead. As good as it feels, he knows it’s nothing compared to what he’ll feel like in another couple of hours.

He gives his cock a tug then releases it to divest himself of his underwear. He kicks it off and into the pile.

He spies the travel size tube of lotion on the sink and pours some into his hand. He slathers it on his cock which fills rapidly. He uses his other hand to scratch at his chest hair and pinch a nipple.

The groan he lets out this time is low and deep and he closes his eyes a fraction of a second before he catches himself and he opens them again.

He pumps his cock as he imagines Tatum standing behind him, cock nestled in his ass cheeks, his hand on Ian’s cock while Brandon sucks his nipple.

He pinches his nipple harder as his hand flies over his cock. He already feels the pressure building in his balls. His breathing picks up and with one well-timed pinch, Ian comes all over the sink.

He washes off his hands, his cock, and the sink silently apologizing to housekeeping and heads back to the bedroom. He sets the timer on his phone and snuggles up into bed, fully sated for the next two hours.

* * *

Ian smooths his t-shirt down as he hopes he’s dressed all right. He doesn’t know why it even matters. He’s just going to be naked soon anyway. But for some reason, it does matter to him. His jeans and NASA shirt aren’t anything unusual, but he suddenly feels underdressed and he needs to go back downstairs to change right now.

He reverses course and heads away from Tatum and Brandon’s room when he almost mows Brandon over. Ian stops short, throws up his hands in surrender and apologizes. “Sorry! My fault.” So much for going back to his room. What he’s wearing will just have to do.

“Yeah, it was,” Brandon jokes. “Our room is this way. Come on.” Brandon shuffles the ice bucket to his other side, wraps his hand around Ian’s arm, and leads the way to his room.

Ian catches the scent of Brandon’s cologne in the air and it instantly calms him. He leans into Brandon, closes his eyes and inhales the familiar fragrance. Brandon laughs at him.

“Already?” he asks, his voice hiding a laugh. “We haven’t even gotten back to the room.”

“Mmm. It’s been a day.” It hasn’t really, but he doesn’t want to sound too eager.

“No it hasn’t,” Brandon teases. “You just need -”

“Shut it.” Of course Brandon knows he’s lying, the little shit. Brandon always knows. It’s like he’s got some sort of sixth sense when it comes to Ian’s feelings.

The walk to Brandon and Tatum’s door is quick - Ian was about ready to knock when he decided he wasn’t dressed properly - and as they get there, Brandon lets go of Ian’s arm and raps on it. He shrugs as a way of letting Ian know he didn’t bring the key card.

Tatum opens the door, obviously only expecting his boyfriend. “I swear, you’d forget - Ian.” He steps back to let the men enter and closes the door.

Almost as soon as the door shuts, Tatum practically pounces on Ian, shoving him against the wall. If Ian didn’t know any better, he’d probably be a little scared. But as it is, Tatum searches his face and then leans in for the lightest kiss Ian thinks he’s ever had. He barely has enough time to register it before Tatum pulls away again.

“Honestly, Michael,” Brandon says setting down the ice bucket. “Let the man actually get into the room before you molest him.”

“Hush,” Tatum says stepping away from Ian and over to Brandon who gets his own kiss.

“I was perfectly fine with that.” And he was, but Ian has to play by the rules. So, he leaves the comfort of the wall and takes in the room.

It’s bigger than his own room, which he expected, but the boys managed to book a suite on the top floor. It’s not quite the honeymoon but more of a working suite, with a large sitting area with two desks and a view to die for lay just past the king-sized bed that was turned down for the night.

He’s about to sit on the bed when Tatum stops him. Both he and Brandon envelop Ian in a hug. Ian submits to the embrace and relaxes into them. Everything he needs is about to happen, and he can hardly wait.

They each grab a handful of Ian’s ass and he hums with appreciation.

“Already?” Tatum asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“What did you expect with that stunt you pulled at the panel?” Ian’s voice holds no real venom, but there is a bite to it. “I’ve been half hard all day you bastard.”

Tatum tilts his head back and laughs. Brandon gives him a playful smack to the arm. “Well, that hardly seems fair. No wonder he’s so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Ian croaks out. Of all the times for his voice to crack like a teenager, this wasn’t it. “Anxious to get started is all.”

“Well in that case, why don’t you go ahead and strip.” Tatum’s voice drops nearly an octave.

Ian looks at his feet. He knows better than to challenge Tatum right now. “Yes, sir,” he manages to squeak out. He slips out of his shoes as he unbuckles his belt.

“Good boy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Brandon asks snuggling up to his boyfriend. “Look at how quickly he obeyed you.”

Ian smiles at their praise. His only wish tonight is to please them. So far, so good. He slides his jeans down his legs. He tries to step out of them, but they’re not quite as loose as he remembers and he gets tangled up enough that Tatum places a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Easy there,” he says.

Ian bends over to pull his jeans off from the cuffs and begins folding them as soon as he’s stood up again. He knows that his hosts do not enjoy clutter in any way, shape, or form, so he sets his pants on the dresser. His shirt comes off next, exposing his pale, hairy chest. He folds it and places it on top of his jeans.

He’s about to take off his socks when Tatum stops him. “Just let us look at you,” he says, making Ian blush. “Those are an interesting choice,” he continues.

His blush grows deeper and his hands automatically stray to his crotch in an effort to cover the superhero faces on his underwear. _Should’ve gone for something normal_ , he thinks.

“Well, I like them,” Brandon says. He gently guides Ian’s hands away from his crotch to get a better look at the design. “Look at how hot Wolverine is.”

“He’s a cartoon, love. Cartoons aren’t hot.”

“Okay, Sebastian,” Brandon teases. “Do you know how many fangirls you have because of that voice?”

“Fair point.”

Ian smiles at their banter. He’s so ridiculously privileged to be part of their lives. He had no idea when they got together four years ago, that they’d invite him to be part of it.

“Con husbands,” they’d said. They’d been more than a little drunk and Ian was sure he’d heard them wrong. They said they wanted to fuck him and Ian spit out his drink as they laughed at his reaction. They’d explained that they wanted to bring in an occasional third, but after talking it over, they both agreed that they didn’t want to find someone new - they’d wanted Ian. They said they’d suspected Ian was a bit of a submissive and they wanted to explore that with him if he was willing.

That first night together Ian had come so hard he’d passed out.

He stands in front of them now feeling naked under their scrutiny. He loves it.

Brandon steps forward and presses his body against Ian’s, cupping his cock and licking a nipple. Ian whimpers at the contact. Brandon slinks his other hand around Ian’s back and slides it underneath his boxer briefs to cup his ass, too. He smiles when Ian shivers at the dual contact.

“I love how responsive he is,” Brandon says. He rubs his crotch against Ian’s hip.

“You’re hogging him, B.” Tatum mirrors Brandon’s position on Ian’s other side, rubbing his crotch on him, one hand gripping his ass, the other resting on Brandon’s and they massage Ian’s cock to hardness. It’s a good thing he jacked off before coming to their room otherwise, he’d be close to shooting off already.

Ian closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of the men touching im. It feels wonderful and he starts to sway slightly, not knowing which direction feels best. He feels Tatum’s lips brush the corner of his mouth and he tries to chase after them when they pull away, but Tatum pulls back enough so that Ian can’t reach them. _Bastard_ , he thinks.

And suddenly, he’s chilled as they step back from him. He opens his eyes and watches the two of them kiss slowly. Ian tries to keep his eyes on the floor like he’s been told on several previous occasions, but they’re so beautiful, he fails miserably. He flexes his hands to try to compose himself, but that fails too, and he exhales heavily, catching their attention.

“What are you doing?” Tatum asks, staring at him

“W-watching, sir.” He’s getting punished. Ian is certain of it.

“Are you supposed to?” Brandon chimes in, his voice playful. His fingers dance on Tatum’s chest. “Michael? Is he supposed to watch?”

Tatum makes a noise of dissent, not even opening his mouth to do it. “Knees,” is all he says.

Ian sinks to the floor and sits on his heels. He places his hands on his thighs. He’s not certain what’s coming next and his pulse races with anticipation. Brandon runs a hand through his hair and he leans into the touch. He savors the feeling up to the point when Brandon yanks his head back roughly. Ian’s eyes snap open and Tatum’s face is right in front of him.

“You’re ours, boy.”

“Yes, sir.” His cock twitches. Ian can hardly stand it.

Tatum’s voice is deep and rough as he asks, “Did you touch yourself?” When Ian doesn’t answer right away, he adds, “Did you? Boy?”

Ian breaks out into a sweat. If he lies, they’ll never know. But he will. It will be a black mark in his mind. And if it ever did come out, he’d be punished. He knows the right answer.

“No,” he rasps.

“I know that look,” Tatum says. “You’re lying.”

_Thank fuck_. Ian swallows. “Yes,” he says.

“You know what that means,” Brandon sing songs. He looks practically giddy with glee. He picks up a long length of red silk from an open suitcase and pulls it through his hands. “Where do your hands go?” he asks.

Ian takes his hands off his neck and he crosses his arms behind his back, each hand gripping the forearm close to the opposite elbow. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. He’s about to be bound and he _loves_ it.

Brandon loops the fabric around his wrist and forearm, deftly threading it around his limbs. The silk feels momentarily cool on his skin before it warms to his body. As Brandon tightens the silk and threads it back in the other direction, Ian concentrates on keeping his breathing steady. He feels Brandon finish off the knot.

Once he’s tied, Tatum instructs Brandon to grab one of Ian’s elbows and they two men guide Ian to his feet. He stands before them, bound and nearly naked and he sort of hopes he gets blindfolded, but also not. He can’t decide if he wants the anticipation of not knowing, or if he wants to know everything they’re going to do to him.

_SMACK_

Brandon swats his ass. It’s not enough to cause any real pain. It’s just enough to keep him firmly in the present.

“Now,” Tatum starts. “Would you like to explain why you lied just now?” He grips Ian’s chin and forces him to look at him. His eyes are hard, demanding.

“I -” It’s all Ian manages to get out before Brandon swats his ass again. This time, instead of just the swat, Brandon caresses and kneads the flesh. Ian hates him a little.

“Mmmm? What was that?” There is the faintest hint of mirth in Tatum’s voice.

“I wanted to be punished,” Ian admits. His eyes never meet Tatum’s.

Tatum releases his chin and steps back. “B,” he says by way of instruction. Brandon kneels behind Ian and places his hands on Ian’s waistband. His fingers curl under the elastic and he slowly lowers them. He slides them down Ian’s legs and when he gets to the socks, he taps one of Ian’s calves and Ian lifts his foot to have his socks removed along with his underwear.

Standing there naked with his cock jutting out before him with his hands tied behind his back is what Ian has waited for all day. He’d hoped he’d be bound - never gagged, though. They like the noises he makes.

He looks down to show them he’s ready for whatever they have in store. He catches a glimpse of Tatum’s cock straining through his jeans and his mouth waters a bit. He wants to taste it so fucking badly that it takes all his willpower to look away.

“On the bed, beautiful,” Brandon coos. Ian doesn’t have to ask how. He knows how they want him.

Ian plants a knee on the bed, then the other and scoots up awkwardly because of his arms. Once he’s managed to get a few inches away from the edge, he turns his head to the side and falls forward so his ass is in the air, his face on the bed, his arms tied securely behind him.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Tatum says. He places a hand on Ian’s calf and slides it slowly up the muscle, up his thighs, stopping at his ass. Tatum’s hand grips it firmly and his fingers dig into the flesh as Ian inhales sharply.

“You ready to fuck him?” Brandon asks. His voice trembles a bit and Ian grins at just how needy he is.

“Not yet,” Tatum replies. He sits on the bed next to Ian and positions himself that his crotch is eye-level with Ian’s view. “Suck me off.”

Ian hears Brandon scrambling to obey. Because of his position, Ian gets quite a show of Brandon carefully unzipping Tatum’s jeans. Of Brandon caressing Tatum’s cock through his underwear. Of Brandon nuzzling it like it’s a damn kitten. His own cock twitches with anticipation.

Brandon taps Tatum’s hip and he lifts up enough for his pants to slide over his ass. His underwear stays put for now. Brandon lowers his face and begins to suckle Tatum through the cotton fabric. Tatum’s moans are deep and low.

It takes a moment for Brandon to pull Tatum’s underwear down, tucking the waistband under his balls. His cock bobs for a moment before Brandon catches it by the base and licks a slow and deliberate path up the shaft.

And all Ian can do is watch.

“Do you like watching Brandon do that?” Tatum asks.

“Yes, sir.” Ian desperately wishes Brandon were sucking him off instead.

“Then you’ll love this,” Brandon says smiling. He deftly swallows Tatum’s cock to the root and holds it in his mouth long enough that Ian thinks Brandon is going to pass out. When he does finally pull off of the cock, Brandon takes in huge gulps of air.

“So good to me,” Tatum says, petting Brandon’s head.

Brandon smiles and begins blowing Tatum in earnest. His head bobs up and down while Tatum rests his hand on the back of Brandon’s head. It’s simultaneously the most lovely and frustrating thing Ian has ever seen, because while he enjoys the view, he desperately needs to get fucked.

Just then, Brandon stutters in his motion as he glances toward Ian and places his hand on Ian’s ass. His fingers walk their way to Ian’s hole and press on the ring of muscle, but never breach it. It’s enough to make Ian squirm in frustration. He needs Tatum to stop dicking around and fuck him.

Brandon pulls off Tatum with a loud pop and wipes his lip with his thumb. “Someone’s eager,” he says. He rolls to the opposite side of his boyfriend and glares cheekily at Ian. “You ready, baby? Are you ready for this cock?” He grasps Tatum’s dick for emphasis.

He’s so ready, he almost doesn’t care if he gets fucked dry. Not really, but the thought does cross his mind. His answer is a breathy yes.

“Good,” Tatum says lifting his hips and sliding off his underwear and jeans. He kicks them off onto the floor and yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. When Ian cocks an eyebrow at him for the mess, he says “Shut it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ian watches Brandon roll off the other side of the bed as Tatum strokes his cock. Ian does his best not to stare at it, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of it. He wriggles his ass imagining getting fucked.

Brandon bounces back onto the bed with a bottle of lube that he hands to Tatum, who thanks him with a kiss that quickly turns heated. Brandon wraps his hand around Tatum’s and they stroke his cock together.

Ian must have groaned because they break their kiss and turn to him. Their silence quickly turns to laughter.

“You should probably fuck him,” Brandon says, still stroking Tatum. “Look at him. He’s needy tonight.”

“You’re right, love. I should.”

_Finally_ , Ian thinks. _It’s about damned time_. He’s rewarded with a loud smack to his ass. He assumes it’s punishment for having lied earlier. He won’t complain, though. He totally deserves it.

Tatum spanks him four more times, then rubs his palm over the warm flesh. Ian closes his eyes and pushes back into the touch. He smiles widely.

It’s when Tatum fondles his balls that Ian nearly loses it. He’d been so focused on the spanking, that he’d practically forgotten the rest of his body even existed. The feel of Tatum’s hand on his sack is delightful. They get a gentle squeeze and Ian has to concentrate on not coming.

Brandon must be able to tell because he chuckles. _Stupid boyfriend_ , Ian thinks lovingly. He suddenly notices that Brandon is still fully dressed. That means he won’t be participating much in tonight’s festivities, but will probably give an order or two. And just as Ian realizes that, Brandon says, “Do it.”

It takes a moment for anything to happen and Ian wonders if anything will, figuring it’d be just like them to torment him as much as possible. But then, something wonderful happens.

Tatum releases his balls and the next thing Ian knows, Tatum is licking a stripe from his taint to his hole and _holy fuck_ does that ever feel good. Ian moans and closes his eyes as Tatum’s hands spread his cheeks apart and stabs at Ian’s hole with his tongue, forcing the muscle open just a bit.

Ian pulls on the silk binding his arms and wishes he could reach back and touch Tatum. No one has ever done this for him and he’s thrilled beyond words that he gets to have this.

“You’re not getting free,” Brandon says lightly.

Ian opens his eyes to find Brandon staring at him and stroking his cock. He’d been so engrossed in the rimming that he never heard Brandon unzip his pants and take it out. God, the kid is beautiful. If he weren’t tied up, he’d be reaching for his cock.

And then there’s a twinkle in Brandon’s eyes. He scooches closer to Ian’s face and thrusts his cock forward. Ian tries to reach it, but between his bindings and Tatum’s tongue, he can’t quite muster the energy. Brandon scoots away and smiles brightly. _Fucking tease_ , Ian thinks.

Ian closes his eyes again to concentrate on Tatum and the sound of him eating him out. He pushes his ass back in a silent plea for more. Tatum takes the hint and pushes his index finger into Ian’s hole up to the first joint. Just enough to make Ian crazy. He wants Tatum’s cock, and he wants it yesterday.

Tatum pulls away and says, “Eager, aren’t we?” He give Ian’s ass another smack and wiggles his finger a little bit making ian groan. “What do you want, Ian?”

A choked “Please,” is all he is able to get out before Tatum spanks him again. “Want - want your cock. Please.”

“That’s more like it,” Tatum says. “B?” Brandon releases his cock and scrambles to get the lube from their suitcase.

He hands Tatum the lube and lays on the bed perpendicular to Ian. He squirms up until his head is under Ian’s body. Ian panics for a moment. He’s not sure he can take what they’re about to do to him.

The bottle opens with a soft pop and Ian feels the cool liquid drip down his crack. Tatum moves his finger in and out, catching a little bit on the digit. Ian feels the finger sliding in deeper with each push.

When Tatum crooks that finger just _so_ , Ian gasps while Tatum and Brandon both chuckle, the bastards. When Tatum repeats the motion, Brandon swallows his cock and this time, Ian nearly screams from the sensation.

“I think he likes that, B.” The mirth in Tatum’s voice holds a trace of desire. Ian smirks, knowing he has that kind of power of him.

Brandon continues to suck him off while leisurely stroking his own prick. It’s the only thing Ian can see from the position he’s in, and he loves watching it. He knows Brandon has stamina for days, _damn kid_ , and he could probably get off just from watching him do it.

He inhales when Tatum adds a second finger to the first, picking up the pace as he scissors them, getting Ian ready. By the time he adds a third, Ian is a sobbing mess. He’s ready to be fucked hard and fast, he’s waited so long.

Ian feels Tatum withdraw his fingers and hears the tearing of the condom wrapper. He feels the bed spring back as Tatum stands to roll on the condom, and to strip off his clothes. Ian catches a glimpse of his furry chest as he places them on the chair in the corner.

“Are you ready, boy?” Tatum says, deep and low. Ian hears the slightest hint of a waiver, and he’s thrilled that he’s the cause of it.

“Yes, daddy.” Ian mewls. He’s beyond needy at this point.

Tatum adds more lube to his cock and rubs the head down Ian’s crack, pausing just long enough to tease his hole with a light push, then continues down and slides it against his balls before gliding back up. This time, he stops at Ian’s hole and pushes in excruciatingly slow.

Ian lets out a breath he didn’t realized he was holding as Tatum slides into him. Once he bottoms out, Tatum grasps Ian’s hips and begins fucking him at a hard and fast pace, taking care to adjust the angle every few strokes to nail his prostate.

Between Brandon sucking him off and Tatum fucking him Ian is incapable of speech and only lets out a litany of moans and whines. He tries to keep his eyes open to watch Brandon jacking himself, but it’s just one sensation too many and he squeezes his eyes shut again.

“Such a good boy,” Tatum says. “Been thinking about this all day long. Needed this ass.”

Tatum’s pace slows and Brandon pulls off Ian’s dick with sloppy pop. He scoots out from under Ian and Ian opens his eyes enough to see some of the worst sex hair he’s ever seen. Kid should know better than to keep it that long.

But then Tatum stops altogether and Ian barely has time to wonder what’s coming next when Tatum releases his hips and places his hands on Ian’s bound arms. Brandon kneel walks to Ian’s head and places his hands on Ian’s shoulders, and together they lift him to an upright position.

As the three men kneel together, Tatum picks up his pace again while Brandon grasps Ian’s cock with his and begins jacking them off. In this position, Ian feel less exposed, more cared for, sandwiched between them like this.

Tatum sucks on one ear while Brandon kisses the other. They kiss their way towards Ian’s mouth and they share a messy three-way kiss. It’s glorious and sloppy and everything Ian needs.

Ian has no idea which man he should lean into, they both feel amazing. He gives up trying and lets them do what they want to him. Tatum pulls away from the kiss, letting Ian and Brandon continue. His hand grips Ian’s chin and forces him out of the kiss. “You’re ours,” Tatum growls.

“Y-yes.” He’s so close to coming, but he needs permission first. “I- I need to come. Please.”

“Permission granted.”

Another few strokes and Ian lets go. He comes all over Brandon’s fist and his own belly. Brandon follows close behind him. It’s Tatum who is the last to go.

Brandon leans over Ian’s shoulder. “Come on, Michael. Come for us.”

Another few grunts and Tatum clamps down on Ian’s shoulder while he spills into the condom. He gives a couple more weak thrusts as he tilts his head back, his breathing labored.

Ian slumps into Brandon’s chest, too weak to take much more. His ass is sore, he’s a come- covered sweaty mess, and his arms begin to tingle. He’s too out of it to even process what happened with his shoulder.

Tatum pulls out and makes quick work of the condom, tossing it in the bathroom trash. He then unties Ian’s arms and together, he and Brandon lay him on the bed.

“I‘m messy,” Ian protests, wondering when he ever felt so tired.

“So am I,” Brandon says. “I’ll get us cleaned up.”

Ian’s somewhat aware of Brandon leaving the bed, and then he hears the water running and he knows Brandon will come back with a warm cloth. He hums at the thought as Tatum strokes his hair, looking down at him.

“You okay?” His voice is soft this time, a far cry from the dominating tone he used a few minutes ago.

“Yeah.” If he were any more okay, he’d sink through the mattress to the floor.

“I’m sorry about the shoulder. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“‘Sokay.” Ian hopes that it was enough to break skin and that it’ll leave a mark.

“Here we go,” Brandon says getting back on the bed.

The cloth feels wonderful on Ian’s chest. He almost wants to apologize for making Brandon’s work harder by having so much chest hair, but considering how furry Tatum is, he knows Brandon’s a master at clean up. He hums at the touch.

“Great. I think you broke him, Michael.”

“Me? I wasn’t the only one fucking him.”

Brandon cocks an eyebrow at him.

“You know what I mean,” Tatum says.

“How do you arms feel, baby?” Brandon asks. “You weren’t tied too long were you?”

“‘M good. Didn’t need to safeword.”

“Which is?”

“Booty baby.”

“It’s a little late to go over that now,” Tatum says. “Our fault for being too eager.”

“I like you eager. So good to me.”

That’s the last thing Ian remembers before he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So much love to [powerfulweak](http://www.powerfulweak.tumblr.com) for the nudging to write this.
> 
> And a shout out to [metatron-the-transformer](http://www.metatron-the-transformer.tumblr.com) for the beta!


End file.
